The Ninja Reader

Not gonna lie, it took some talking into. I'm the sort of person who loves food and loves trying things out, yet between making something myself and going to a restaurant, I usually choose the former. It's not so much a money issue as it is a company issue. For whatever reason, I'd convinced myself that I'd feel weird sitting there alone, waiting for my food. (And I'm not talking about McDonald's here.)

However, I had saved money from a taxi the night before (not by my own wishes, I assure you; I just figured walking home was safer than standing in the drunken queue by myself) so I figured, why not. It didn't help that I'd just experienced one of the more miserable nights out in recent memory, which made the "splurge" even more in order.

Guess what? I had a ball.

Sara Maitland explores solitude in "How to be Alone" in such a way, I'm shocked I'd never thought about it before. Despite the fact that I'm a relatively solitary person, I spend a great portion of my day online, looking things up or writing for class, which, after a while, led me to burn out somewhat. People's company, while pleasant, felt like too much after a while, and at times, I felt like my head was being yanked in a thousand different directions all at one.

We live in the digital age where being exposed to stimuli all the time is the norm. Worse, those who try to escape it by embracing a more solitary lifestyle are branded as "mad, sad or bad." 

In addition to busting those stereotypes, Maitland provides some easy exercises and further reading on the question of solitude which I actually quite liked. The beauty of self-help books is, of course, in the eyes of the beholder, but having read it and recognized myself as over-exposed and over-stimulated, I found the advice in here incredibly helpful.

Going back to my restaurant example, I'm happy to report that, aside from a quick callback to someone else, my phone stayed in my bag and I didn't even feel the temptation to browse the web to distract myself until the food came. I took my time ordering, not because I was worried what the other person might think about my choice, but because I actually wanted to decided what to eat. I tasted every (excruciatingly spicy) mouthful of my food, and ordered dessert (which was divine. Period.) I left the restaurant feeling good.

I can't help contrasting it with the night I'd had a mere 18 hours earlier - at a huge gathering of (supposedly) people I knew, I'd barely spoken to anyone else. I shoveled food in my mouth because conversation was stilted and difficult. I danced with folks I barley knew, feeling like a fake the whole way through. I went home tired, heart-sore and disgusted at the amount of money that went into the whole thing. It says a lot when prepping for an event (aka hair, nails and make-up) are the highlight of your evening.

Whether conscious solitude is something you want to practice or not, my suggestion is not to write off the practice as silly, or as socially aberrant. If it's not for you, fine - neither I nor this book will judge you for it. 

It worked for me.

I leave it at that.